“So you admit they aren’t yours?”
“They aren’t mine, no.”
“Why did you try to pass them off as yours during the fingerprinting? You lied to a government official and tried to falsify documents. That could land you in jail.”
Dutch waved a stack of papers. “I’m the keeper of everything that belongs to the Wagners, including the girls.”
Lana sank down to the bench, unable to stand on her own two legs. “I was with the Wagners when they were taken in. I told them I’d watch the girls. And then we left in a hurry, running from the Japanese. I had no idea that their parents would be held for so long.”
“Being a Nazi is a serious crime,” Williams said.
“It is,” Lana said.
Franklin glared. “Didn’t you speak to Mr. London here that afternoon, and he told you Mr. Wagner had asked him to take over?”
“Kidnapping is a felony. Are you aware of that?” said Williams.
Their rapid-fire questioning was getting to her. “I didn’t kidnap them! You can ask their parents. They’re being held at Kīlauea Military Camp, but you probably already know that.”
“How do you know that?” Williams said.
“The camp is no secret.”
Dutch came closer, the faint smell of cheese wafting off him. “The Wagners are up here? I thought they were taken to O‘ahu,” he said with a frown.
“Nope, they’re right up the road,” Lana said, proud of her small victory.
He continued. “The way I see it is that the Wagners are neck high in trouble and they’ve entrusted me to handle their affairs. As if they need more to worry about. I’ll just take the girls and bring them home to Hilo.”
“Why don’t we go talk to the Wagners? They should have a say in this,” Lana said, remembering how Ingrid had looked conflicted when Fred mentioned Dutch. If only she had spoken up back then.
Lana could picture the look on Grant’s face when she showed up with two FBI agents. Not much she could do about it now.
Franklin ignored her suggestion and sniffed the air. “This is a big house. Do you have anyone else here with you?”
“Just us.”
“Mind if we take a look around?”
A twitch developed on the side of her eye. Yes, she minded. If Mochi or Benji had left one thing out of place, it would be obvious. “There’s not much to see.”
“Are you aware that one of your father’s Jap friends went missing after the attack? He wouldn’t happen to be up here with you, would he?”
Both men watched her intently.
“No and no.”
The fire spit an ash onto the floor. Williams stomped it. Lana met their gaze with as much false confidence as she could muster. Their questioning reminded her of being interrogated by the principal for skipping class and meeting up with Alika behind the banyan tree.
“Show us around, please,” Franklin said.
Dutch made himself at home by the fire, crossing his arms over his gut. His shirt was one size too small, and his waist several sizes too large. She wished she could blot him out with pen and ink or add whiskers to his already beady eyes. Lana stood on wobbly legs.
As they passed the kitchen, she poked her head in. “Would you be good hostesses and pour these gentlemen some lemonade, please?”
“Why is Mr. London here?” Coco hissed.
No point in lying. “He says I kidnapped you—”
“We don’t like him,” she said.
Lana gave them a firm look. “Don’t do anything silly. I’ll handle this. Trust me.”
Outside, the rain started up in earnest. Raindrops peppered the tin roof like pebbles, and the rush was deafening. She led them into her room first. Williams took a side trip into the bathroom, slamming cabinet doors around. He came out holding up a bottle of Barbasol shaving cream, which ironically had been Jack’s.
“This yours?”
“That belonged to my father. I haven’t had the heart to throw out his stuff yet.”
They looked under mattresses, through drawers, out windows, all without saying anything. Franklin slow and methodical, Williams hasty and erratic. She was equally impressed and terrified at their thoroughness.
In the girls’ room, Coco showed up holding two glasses. “We made this from scratch.”
If they had any qualms about drinking cold lemonade on an arctic morning, the hopeful look on Coco’s face squelched it. Both men willingly accepted. Williams sipped; Franklin swigged.
“Who sleeps in here?”
Coco started up. “Me and—”
“Coco and Sailor. Marie sleeps in the next room,” Lana said.
Coco stood there with that look on her face that said she was fixing to say something dangerous. Lana nodded sternly toward the kitchen, but it was too late.
Her small voice carried a tremor. “My dog, Sailor, really wants you to leave. This is not your house, and it’s mean of you to force your way in and look at all our private things. And for your information, Aunt Lana is nothing but good.”
Wearing knee-high pink socks and a polka-dotted sweater, Coco looked as threatening as a bunny rabbit in an Easter basket. But her arms were crossed and she meant business.
Franklin set down his nearly empty glass and rubbed his eyes. “Sorry, little miss. We have a job to do. Mrs. Hitchcock has some serious allegations against her, and we need to sort it out.”
Lana had the sudden horrific thought they might lock her up with the Wagners and other offenders who were mostly guilty of being born in the wrong country.
Apparently Coco did, too. “You can’t take her!”
“Like I said, Coco, trust me. Everything will be fine once we talk to your parents,” Lana said.
“Then I want to come.”
“No visitors,” Franklin said.
Williams began to yawn, one after another. “Show us the next room so we can vamoose. This weather’s getting to me.”
Coco clung to Lana’s blouse and followed them in. Lana pulled her close. She was trying to look calm when inside she was close to full-blown hysteria. The room was astonishingly void of signs. No clothing, no shoes, no empty tea mugs. By now the agents had lost the thrill of the hunt. They barely checked the kitchen and fortunately didn’t even open the pantry door. Marie was at the table, hands neatly folded.
Out in the living room, Dutch downed the last of his lemonade. Franklin leaned on the door frame. The skin over his eyelids was sagging. “I’m not feeling so hot. What do you say we just take them all in to the camp and let them fight it out with the parents.”
Dutch stood. “I have custody. So just give me the girls and you can deal with Mrs. Hitchcock as you see fit.”
Coco’s eyes blazed. “I’m not going with him.”
Sailor sat upright in the middle of the room. Her gaze went from man to man, never taking her eyes away from them. Coco went and stood by her. What a great team they made.
Williams thought for a moment, then said, “We’re taking you all in. Grab your purse, ma’am.”
Coco looked ready to bolt. Part of Lana wanted her to stay put, and part hoped that she ran. If they arrested Lana, the girls would be with Mr. London, and that would be unbearable. Surely the Wagners would be able to clear up this horrible mess given the chance, but she remembered that Fred had been adamant about the girls needing a man around. Not all men were created equal—did he not see that?
“What about Sailor?” Marie asked.
“I’ll take Sailor with me,” Dutch said.
Coco made a sour face. “Sailor doesn’t want to go with you.”
There was no room for Sailor in the car, with Lana and the two girls.
Franklin suggested, “We can pick up the dog later.”
Lana didn’t like the sound of that. She stepped into the kitchen for her p
urse and called out louder than necessary, “Coco, why don’t you bring your owl Hoot, since we don’t know when we’ll be coming back from camp.”
Coco disappeared. When several minutes had gone by, and she still hadn’t come out, Williams called, “Hey, kid, hurry it up.”
Nothing. He looked at Lana. She shrugged. They went back to the bedroom and found the window open. Cool air filtered in and there was no sign of Coco.
“Coco?” Lana called.
“Great. We got a runaway kid on our hands,” Williams said.
Just to be sure, they searched the other rooms. Lana knew they wouldn’t find her. “The girls don’t like Mr. London, in case you missed that small detail. You ask me, some men shouldn’t be left in charge of young women.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Nor should they be alone out in the boondocks. Any idea where she might be hiding?”
Lana had several ideas. “Nope. The girls stayed indoors much of the time, afraid of falling in cracks or steam vents, that kind of thing.”
Back in the living room, Franklin was now leaning sideways on the table, ready to fall asleep. Dutch rubbed his eyes.
“Fellas, the kid took off out the window. How about you stay here, Franklin, and search the area, and I’ll take Mrs. Hitchcock and the older girl in. Mr. London, you can follow us,” Williams said.
Lana felt extremely uneasy leaving Coco behind, and Franklin there alone with Mochi and Benji in the secret room, but she wanted to get to the Wagners and explain her case. As loud as she could, she yelled out the window, “Coco, Mr. Franklin is staying here, so you won’t be alone!”
She grabbed Marie’s hand as they walked out the door. Marie had gone pale and mute and shaky.
“We will work this out,” Lana said.
If only she could be sure.
THE CAMP
The skies continued to weep. Gullies had formed in the center of the road, creating rivers out of ruts and pools out of potholes. Lana and Marie rode in back trying to remain calm. Every so often Lana checked her wrists to make sure she wasn’t in handcuffs. But the truth was that Williams and Franklin were investigating a kidnapping. Their main concern was the girls’ safety, not some lying housewife.
Marie looked miserable, and Lana couldn’t blame her. Going off alone with Mr. London would be an awful fate. Though Lana was sure that Coco would come to her senses and return. There was only so long she could hide out. Running away usually seemed like a brilliant idea at the time, but when darkness came, the thrill quickly faded. Lana knew from experience.
When they arrived at the camp, a guard waved them through the gate, which was wound with enough barbed wire to fence five pastures. Hair rose on the back of her neck. They parked in front of a large stone house with smoke streaming from the chimney. The surrounding lawns and fields were submerged in rainwater.
Williams held out his hand. “I need your ID. Wait here.” He waded up to the red door and disappeared inside.
Beyond the building, another fence surrounded the barracks. Two guards in rain gear walked back and forth, bayonets leaning on their shoulders. A roughly constructed bell tower with a machine gun loomed over the place. Lana craned her head but saw no sign of life other than a group of wet mynah birds.
Williams came back drenched and yawning. He drove them to a large wooden building with a wraparound lanai. The theater was just down the way, and Lana recalled her last time there. There had been hot buttered popcorn and a rowdy audience of soldiers on R and R. She shuddered.
He led them inside and sat Lana down on a wooden bench facing a window. Marie sat with her.
“You, come with me,” he said to Marie.
“Why can’t we stay together?” Lana asked.
“It doesn’t work that way.”
Lana squeezed her hand. “Just do as they say.”
Williams led her off, and they disappeared around the corner while Lana waited. A secretary click-clacked away on a typewriter, and uniformed men popped in and out of doorways. She pulled her hood as far forward as possible, staring down at the dust in the floor cracks. Breaths were hard to take. If only she could tell Grant on her own terms, not have him find out this way. Please let him be off submarine spotting or setting up booby traps for Japanese invaders.
Get ahold of yourself. There were far bigger issues here than Grant. Other people’s lives were at stake. Everyone’s life was at stake, for that matter. This was a different world and she’d better get used to it.
After a time, when it seemed that no one else was around, Lana stood to look out the window. She could see an area between the buildings where several Japanese men were walking back and forth under a deep eave. They could walk only the length of the building without getting rained on. She was too far away to see their faces, but their hunched shoulders and sluggish pace told her all she needed to know. She was tempted to sneak out and offer up her raincoat and an encouraging word, as if that would do any good.
Ten minutes later a young guard came in and ushered Lana into another building, where she was placed in a small room. He said nothing to her, and when he went to shut the door, she could hardly stand his silence.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Sorry, ma’am. I don’t talk to prisoners.”
“But I’m just here to clear up a misunderstanding.”
He shut the door in her face. The room was eight paces across and ten long. There was a cot with a folded army blanket, a small table and two chairs, and a barred window on one side. Another door opened into a closet-sized bathroom. Her view was of a grassy field and a barbed-wire fence. What the hell was going on? Had Williams lied to her in order to get her in here without a big fuss?
Lana sat on the chair, paced the room, counted the floor boards and finally, what must have been hours later, lay back on the cot. She thought about Coco and wondered where she was at this moment. In the secret room with Mochi and Benji? With the horses? And poor Sailor, she was probably anxious and confused without all her people.
Lana got up and pounded on the door. “Someone, please tell me what’s going on!” she cried, pressing her cheek to the cool wood.
But no one came. With the cloudy skies, it was impossible to tell what time it was. Minutes passed like hours, and Lana created an assortment of scenarios in her head. The Wagners had indeed been taken to O‘ahu. They were arresting her for kidnapping and there would be no trial. Mr. London knew someone at the camp and pulled strings to keep Lana locked up, while he made off with the girls. It was frightening to think that he was in charge of all of the Wagners’ affairs—house, actually houses, now that the Wagners owned Jack’s house; business; girls; and by default Sailor and the geese. Greed seeped out of him in the house earlier, and Lana finally understood that it was far more than just the girls that he wanted.
When the skies darkened, a different guard brought her a plate of spam and rice with watery greens and warm juice.
“Sir, please, can you tell me why I’m still being held? Williams and I were supposed to talk to the Wagners. Are they here? And what about Marie, the girl who came with me? Do you know where she is?” she blurted.
The soldier was hardly older than Marie. “No, ma’am.”
This one seemed more pliable, and she was about to interrogate him further, when she heard footsteps in the hallway. The air began to hum at a higher frequency, as if someone had unleashed a swarm of mosquitos into the building. She knew who was coming. Sure enough, Grant stepped into the room beside the guard.
“What’s this all about?” he said in a very buttoned-up way. “Why are you here, Mrs. Hitchcock?”
His formality stung. Give him the benefit of the doubt, she ordered herself. But this was not the Grant she knew.
“I was accused of kidnapping—”
“I know what you were accused of. Do those girls belong to the Wagners and not you?”
Lana wanted to tell the guard to scram, but he remained planted.
“Yes, but I didn’t kidnap anyone! I brought the girls up here to save them. The Wagners are my father’s neighbors and they were taken away—”
“I know the story. But all this time, you led me to believe they were yours. Why not just tell me?”
Lana felt the need to stand up for herself. “I never expected things to happen between us like they did, and I was scared. Our islands were under attack, and the man supposedly responsible for the girls was a louse. The girls hate him. I acted on instinct. I was just trying to protect them.”
Lana thought about the trail of Grant’s touch, his smile and the way he looked unflinchingly into her eyes. He had been nothing but kind and helpful and interested. He didn’t look that way now.
“I was over there helping y’all out, and you didn’t have the decency to come clean with me.”
“I was planning to tell you today. I swear it!”
Grant shook his head and stepped away. At the door, he turned and locked eyes with her. “I will say this—nothing loses my interest quicker than someone lying to me. You of all people should know that.”
And just like that, he had shut her out.
“Wait,” she begged. “What are they going to do with me?”
“That’s not up to me now,” he said flatly, and left the room.
Alone again, Lana flung herself facedown onto the cot. She had meant to tell him, and would have, if Coco hadn’t interrupted her plans. Though she knew that she should have had the difficult conversation sooner rather than later, since sometimes later never came. Every person makes mistakes...that’s why there is also forgiveness. And as far as lying went, if her reasons were to keep the children safe, then how could she be faulted? If Grant didn’t come to his senses on that, she didn’t want him anyway.
A sob arose, and soon she was curled up in a ball, weeping. The cot was soaked, her hands were soaked and her hair dripped with tears.
When the sun had gone down completely, Lana sat in the dark, shivering. Even prisons were on blackout. The worst part was she had no idea where the girls were. Had Coco turned herself in or was she still hiding? Had Mr. Wagner been furious that she brought the girls to Volcano without his permission, mere woman that she was, and then sent them home with Dutch London after all? A shudder ran down to her toes.
Red Sky Over Hawaii Page 24